


Sounds of Darkness

by IcyPanther



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Isolation, Langst, Platonic Shance, Protective Hunk, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Recovery, Sensory Deprivation, shangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 15:43:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14047518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPanther/pseuds/IcyPanther
Summary: Lance couldn’t see. Or hear. Or move. The silent darkness was all encompassing and it was pressing in; choking him, drowning him, blinding him. He screamed but it was swallowed whole into the void of nothingness. Lance trembled, pain shaking his limbs, and faintly wondered if he’d even made a sound at all.





	Sounds of Darkness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CrownsofLaurels (laurel1020)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurel1020/gifts).



> **Timeline notes:** Post season-five with all canon events leading up to it.  
>  **Warning notes:** Nothing under the violence tag for once. Does cover the topic of extreme sensory deprivation and restricted movement so if those are triggers please proceed with caution.
> 
> Please do leave a comment at the end if you enjoyed! _Gracias!_

 

 

"Put it in the holding cell," the Galra lieutenant ordered, feet clomping down harshly on the floor, loud, but still quieter than the sounds of explosions happening outside the Galra battleship. "We'll deal with it later when Commander Trugg is available."

"It?" Lance protested as he was dragged on his rump by the scruff of his neck like a disobedient puppy by a second Galran. "I'll have you know—"

"Shut it up too," the lieutenant sighed, her voice heavy. "What a grating sound."

"Excuse me?"

"I will see it done, Lieutenant," the Galra officer said, snapping off a salute with one hand while the other tightened in the collar of Lance's undersuit.

"Bridge in five," was the response and the smaller but higher-ranked Gala stalked off.

"You know, you could just let me go," Lance tried as they resumed their journey. He was grateful the Galra corridors were smooth metal as otherwise he'd have bruises where the sun didn't shine. He tried to press down a bare foot but his skin skidded with an awful sticking screech and it didn't do anything. "You guys obviously sound very busy," and the statement was punctuated by another large explosion that rocked the ship for a second. "I can take myself off your hands."

The officer snorted. "You are a valuable pawn, Paladin. We can make a deal with that traitor prince," a snarl, "for your miserable life. Unless of course Commander Trugg has other plans for you. I know I wouldn't mind listening in on one of her interrogation sessions."

"How about a bribe?" Lance put out. "I know a guy who can make some amazing cookies. I can hook you up."

The Galra finally looked over his shoulder at him with narrowed but exasperated eyes. "Lieutenant Yarada was right. Your voice is grating."

"My mamá says I have the voice of an angel," Lance informed him, trying unsuccessfully to hook his bound ankles now about the edge of the hallway as they turned and trying harder still not to fall into panic.

Easier said than done as the entire Galra ship rocked once more. There was being captured by the Galra. And there was being captured by the Galra who were busy fighting a civil war against one another and being in the middle of one of their firefights.

Lance scowled. Damn Lotor. Even though this was entirely his own fault. He  _should_ have been paying more attention to his own back but he was so cautious about watching Shiro's. It was his first time back in the field since… His mind flashed to the pale, trembling-limbed figure they had pulled out of a stasis container and hooked up to so many wires and tubes it barely looked human just a few weeks ago. The only consolation was this time around Shiro had been kept under nearly the entire time so while it still wasn't good he didn't have a host of new nightmares and terrors to remember this trip by. Just months upon months of no memory of time passing. But they had him back now and that was what was important. It could have gone so very differently.

Shiro, or whoever they thought had been Shiro, had gone rogue after Allura had declared she would not be sharing the secrets she had learned from the White Lion because it was too dangerous of information to fall into the wrong hands. Or, well, he attempted to. His eyes had lit up yellow and that had been terrifying and his prosthetic had reached out and clamped about Allura's neck, but Coran moved pretty fast for someone over six-hundred years old and before anything could even happen he'd jabbed Shiro in the back of the neck and down he went.

They'd put him into a cryo-pod for containment and found then after brainwave scans to figure out what had made Shiro snap that the person they had been following for the last several months was not a person at all but an android put together by science and magic. At least from the clone going rogue they'd learned their Shiro was still out there and combining their forces, the Blades and Lotor's knowledge of Galra research facilities they had eventually found him.

Still, Allura had been sick that Altean magic had been used in such a way while Lotor had been fascinated and wanted to dissect it. They'd settled for now on just leaving the fake Shiro as he was in the cryo until they could find answers.

That was why when Lotor said he believed Commander Trugg's science division that she had pilfered from another Galra commander following the Kral Zera may have information on Lance had jumped at the chance to go find it. Because while this Shiro was apparently a fake he had still been a friend, no matter who or what he was. Lance wanted to help (and not let him be dissected) and Shiro wanted answers as much as anyone and had told Lance he'd be joining him.

Unfortunately things had not gone according to plan as all things tended to do. They'd had to act fast as Trugg's ships were moving quickly and it had just been Shiro and Lance still at the castle as the others had been called away on what Lance had called a "genius heavy mission." But it was a chance they could not waste so they'd taken off in Black, equipped with a few minutes worth of cloaking thanks to Pidge, and had planned a quick get in, get out stop while Trugg's forces were fighting other Galra.

Shiro had been in the process of downloading the information with the interface of his arm when they'd been spotted and Lance had taken a few laser blasts in the back as his focus had been on making sure  _nothing_ touched Shiro. He'd been okay though, just a little winded, and they'd made for the Black Lion with the data they had managed, hoping it would be enough.

Lance had been covering Shiro again as they charged towards Black's ramp and his disregard for his own safety had cost him. A heavy shot that hadn't really hurt him but had had enough shock to send him to the ground. Lance could still see the horror in Shiro's eyes when Lance had yelled out as he went down. Shiro had turned around immediately but Black had other ideas as in one bite she'd scooped Shiro up and taken to the skies as Galra officers surrounded Lance and battleships came in targeted on the Lion.

They'd disappeared in a burst of the thrusters and the only thing Lance could find comfort in was that Shiro had not fallen into Galra hands again. He had though and now here he was, stripped of his armor and communications and the jerks had even taken his shoes and socks too. But he was sure Shiro would be contacting the others and they'd be here soon.

He could hold on that long. No sweat.

At least that's what he kept telling himself. The fact it sounded like they did just want to dump him in a jail cell for now was more than fine with him.

And speak of the devil, they'd arrived as the officer came to a stop and after typing in a code on a doorway it opened and he dragged Lance inside the room that really could be called a glorified closet.

The room was pitch dark save for the light coming from the hall, but even in the dimness Lance could make out a set of cuffs attached to the wall opposite the door. They were clearly made for someone taller than him and he smirked. "I guess that's that then," he shrugged as best he could with his hands bound behind his back. "Looks like we're done here. If you'd be so kind as to–"

Lance's words cut off with a gasp as the Galran threw him forward and he smashed into the wall, the angle awkwardly digging his hands into his back. He tried to get his bound feet under him but the officer was there and cuffed him upside the head, leaving his ears ringing. He hit  _hard._

One hand was freed from the bindings behind him, only to be lifted and secured palm forward into the wall cuff, his entire body weight dangling now from it and Lance groaned. His next hand was quick to join it, his arms stretched now above his head on either side of his body and his toes barely skimming the floor.

He managed to pull them up, grunting as the cuffs dug into his wrists as now they were supporting all of him, and braced his feet against the wall to lunge out in a kick, internally cheering when the snapped directly into the Galra's chest and sent him staggering backwards.

His relief was short lived though as the officer came back with a snarl and backhanded Lance across the face so hard his cheek smashed into the wall next to him. His feet were grabbed and his ankles unbound, only to be forcefully secured in the cuffs against the wall so that he had to balance on his bare toes to not hang entirely from his hands. Already his arms were hurting.

"Didn't…" Lance gasped, head still reeling, "they teach you prisoner one-oh-one in–"

A gloved hand slapped across his mouth then, muting his words. Lance gnashed his teeth against it with little luck. "You talk too much," the Galran hissed, his free hand digging into a utility pouch on his thigh. He emerged with a length of thick black cable. Lance renewed his teeth gnashing as though it was going to do him any good.

The hand left his face and before he could even draw another breath the cord was being jammed into it, yanking cruelly on the tender flesh of his mouth as the officer dragged it behind his head and tied it tightly. It tasted like oil and Lance gagged around it.

"There," the Galran said with a huff, stepping back. "Quiet at last."

Lance growled at him but it came out a barely muffled sound.

"Stay here," the office patted the top of his head and Lance jerked it aside even though it didn't go anywhere. He was  _not_ some dog. "I'll be back soon enough."

The Galra crossed the few steps out of the room and then the door closed behind him with a thud, plunging everything into pure darkness. Lance blinked his eyes, waiting for them to adjust, but after a minute everything remained the same, inky hue.

Utter darkness.

Good thing he wasn't scared of the dark.

He sure was scared of a lot of other things though and Lance's pathetic whimper was swallowed up by the gag. But it was going to be fine. The team would be here soon and they would rescue him. They were probably on their way right now.

 _Dios,_ he hoped so. He tried to shift his weight but he couldn't move his feet at all to brace them against the wall and his toes were already wailing at the pressure being forced upon them and his calves were starting to ache. He tried to straighten up and put more of it on his wrists, but it didn't help much as so much was already hanging from them.

Torture by standing. Excellent.

Lance snorted, shaking his head and told himself to toughen up. He was being forced to stand (awkwardly on his toes) in a dark room but that was it. Boo hoo. If this was the worst the Galra had he could do this all day.

Although he really hoped it wasn't a day. Maybe max a varga? Maybe two. He'd give them two to come rescue him since they were all away on a mission.

He could hang on for two hours.

He blinked.

Oh,  _Dios,_ no. That was  _awful._ He snorted again, but this time with more mirth and the tightness in his stomach lessened a bit. He was going to be  _fine._

xxx

It had been maybe thirty minutes now if he was being generous and Lance was reevaluating his timeline. His calves were  _burning_ from the position and his arms weren't much better.

And as much as he hated to say it, the silence was more than a little unnerving.

He didn't like silence. Home had always been so noisy and he'd grown up where a quiet moment was a rarity. The Garrison had been a bit more strict on noise after hours but it had never been  _quiet_ between Lance's music player or Hunk's humidifier. The castle too and space in general had its own oppressive silence and yeah, sometimes the quiet did get to be too much in a castle meant to house hundreds that had only a handful. But again, he had music thanks to Pidge (and the Altean orchestras were quite catchy after a while) and he could normally find someone up and about – even if it was just the mice – to talk to and break the silence.

Here though he could do little to break it. His attempts to talk behind the thick cable were barely there muffles and each attempt made him gag a little bit as it pressed deeper in on his tongue and he'd really, really like to avoid vomiting everywhere. Hitting his head against the wall had made a slight thump but it had hurt too much and he was already hurting enough, thank you very much.

Maybe it was the dark. The pitch blackness combined with the utter silence was what was really unnerving him. Even in the worst times in the coldness and quiet of space all he had to do was find a window and gaze out at the stars and planets drifting by.

There were no windows here.

There was  _nothing_ except darkness.

Lance strained his eyes, just wanting to see  _something._ Anything to help him focus because his thoughts were starting to run into a panicked jumble and how absolutely pathetic was that?

He closed his eyes – or at least he was pretty sure he did and a few blinks later he confirmed he had – and took as deep a breath as he could manage. Maybe he could try and take a nap. Pretend the pain was just from a really, really  _really_ intense workout. And when he woke up it would be to his friends hauling him down.

Yes. Sleep. Sleep was good.

xxx

Somehow he must have indeed dozed off as he was awoken to the feeling of the ship lurching to the left, although thanks to his restraints he went nowhere.

He could have cried with relief that that had to be the rescue because with wakefulness came  _pain_ and he was in a whole lot of it. He swore his muscles were being torn apart if the flare of agony was anything to go by and he let out a muffled moan, head dropping. He tried to lower his body more, to somehow place more weight on his feet instead, but there was no give on either the ankle or hand manacles.

He felt a tear trickle down his cheek from just the sheer overwhelming burning. His mouth and jaw were starting to hurt now too from the forced open position thanks to the thick cord.

Still, it was almost over. Any minute now his fellow Paladins were going to burst in.

Any minute now.

Minutes turned into ten and then a half hour.

Nothing.

Please, he prayed, tilting his head back to try and relieve some of the strain at least on his neck. Please. This  _hurt._

No one came.

xxx

It had been hours now. Maybe. His sense of time was a little off and he kept losing track when he tried to count.

_Where were they?_

They would never have left him behind, he believed that with all his heart. So the only thing he could think of was something had happened to them and his heart clenched with fear. What if Shiro and Black had fallen to Galra battle cruisers? What if the other mission had failed and everyone else was captured too?

But even if not his team…

Where were the Galrans? Lance would gladly take one of their torture chambers at this point. So long as it let him sit down and there was light he would take anything over this agonized nothingness.

'Hunk,' he mumbled into his gag, tasting oil once more and swallowing heavily to keep the acid bile at bay, trying to draw strength and comfort from the sound of his best friend's name. It was audible to himself and he repeated it to pierce the gloom.

After the fifth time Lance wasn't sure if he was actually speaking anymore. He stopped trying, feeling dizzy.

His ears hurt, the silence too loud. It felt like standing in front of a huge speaker and it was so intense that sound gave way to just sheer pressure. He swore he felt something trickle down the side of his face then and he jerked his head. Were his ears bleeding? Had his eardrums ruptured?

The phantom feeling continued and Lance shuddered, that movement setting new lines of fire racing up his abused arms.  _That_ he could at least feel and for a moment it was almost comforting.

A second later though feeling morphed back entirely into agony and he decided no, he preferred it the other way.

He'd prefer for it stop, really.

Please just let someone come.

Anyone.

xxx

Lance couldn't tell if his eyes were open anymore.

He couldn't feel the flutter of lashes on his skin and they hurt no matter how many times he blinked. They just stared into darkness no matter what position they were in.

They stung. A tear might have dripped down his face again but he wasn't sure. He shifted his jaw and that did cause the gag to push into the corners of his mouth. Something else dripped down. Maybe. Blood?

Was he bleeding?

Where was he bleeding?

This was ridiculous, he tried to tell himself as something dribbled against his cheek. Or he thought it might have. He was  _fine._ He was  _fine._

This was all in his head. Just the darkness and silence and pain playing tricks on him.

He couldn't let it. He wracked his brain for something else to focus on. Something that didn't make him think of anything important. Not his family, his team, the Galra, the pain…

Pain.

He couldn't think of anything.

Pain.

 _Dios_ he couldn't  _think._

Lance cried.

Maybe.

xxx

He couldn't feel his legs anymore. He tried to remember if that was good or bad.

Good, he decided as lightning lanced down his arms. No pain was good.

But the absence was scary too and he tried to wiggle a toe but there was nothing there.

Were his legs still attached?

Panic flared and he tried to tamp it down. Of course they were there. He was just hanging here, doing nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Stop panicking.

Stop it.

Stop it.

Stop… what?

xxx

His throat hurt. He wanted a drink. But all he could taste was nothing. His tongue butted up against something but it did not help. He did it again though because he felt it move, felt the pressure.

He choked back a sob.

_Where were they?_

His brain stuttered a moment later as it wondered who "they" was.

His team. Hunk and Shiro and Pidge and Allura. Keith? No. No that wasn't right. Keith was with the Blades. He thought so at least. That made sense.

Nothing made sense.

He wanted to go  _home._

Where was home again?

xxx

Something moved.

It pulled itself from the darkness and Lance screamed as it wrapped about him.

His scream was silent.

He wasn't sure if he was screaming, actually.

He wanted to though. He wanted to hear something.

It covered his face and he cried out again as it filled his lungs and eyes and ears and nose, flailing as best he could as it tried to suffocate him.

It disappeared.

He was left gasping and sobbing.

xxx

He was going to die here.

He knew that. He didn't know anything else but he knew that, somehow.

He was going to die here and no one would ever find him.

xxx

Fire. He was burning. His arms were burning.

Lance tried to scream but he couldn't hear it over the harsh crackle of flames.

The scent of burnt flesh wafted through the air and this time there was no stopping the acid bile from coming up his throat.

It was going to drown him as he sputtered and coughed, spilling over his chin.

If he didn't burn up first that was. The flames were stretching higher and higher, his fingers disappearing into ash and bone.

The fire swallowed him whole.

xxx

He was floating now. He couldn't feel his arms. He couldn't feel anything.

Just darkness. Just silence.

Something skittered but he wasn't sure  _where._ It scared him.

He was scared.

He couldn't remember why he was scared.

xxx

He was going to die here.

xxx

He forgot their names.

He forgot his own. He knew he had one. Or maybe he didn't have a name. Maybe the darkness had a name.

It came for him again, cloying and suffocating.

He welcomed it. He felt it.

Or.

He thought he did.

He didn't feel anything anymore.

What was feeling?

All he had was silent darkness.

xxx

He was going to die here.

He…

He didn't know what that meant.

He didn't know anything.

Just silence.

Just darkness.

It was so dark.

xxx

xxx

xxx

There was light.

Sound.

Pain.

He'd forgotten it. He wished he still had.

He screamed. Or tried to.

Something touched him and he wailed. The sounds were growing louder.

Darkness. Silence He wanted them. This  _hurt._ It hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt.

More touches. More pain. His eyes seared. He screamed again although he couldn't hear it.

Something brushed against his eyes.

The darkness was back.

He welcomed it, tilting his face into its embrace. Something touched his neck again. Sharp and thin and  _cold._

He jerked away without success.

But the pain was fading as quickly as it had come.

He welcomed the darkness.

Everything disappeared.

xxx

There were voices. Actual voices. At least he thought there might be. He listened harder.

Yes.

They were soft, barely a murmur, but that was a voice. Two. Two voices. They were saying words but he couldn't quite make them out.

It was okay. They were nice.

He drifted off listening to them.

xxx

The voices were there again, still soft but clearer. He turned his head slightly, trying to follow them and one of them made a sort of choking noise.

"Lance!" it gasped in a slightly louder but still hushed volume. "Lance. Lance, can you hear me?"

Lance.

It rolled over in his mind.

Lance.

That was his name.

That was his  _name._

He had a name.

He moaned in response and the sound that came out of his own throat startled up. He thought his eyes might have opened but above him there was only more darkness and he whimpered.

Still dark.

Something touched him then and he moaned again, but it was not the suffocating touch of darkness. It was  _warm._

He liked it. He liked the warmth.

"Shh, shh," the warmth said and it rubbed against his cheek. "You're safe now. You're home."

Home. That word meant something too.

He frowned, trying to remember why.

"Lance," said the second voice and it was deeper. Sadder. "I'm… I'm so s-sorry."

"Shiro, he can't hear you right now," said the warmth, sad now too.

Shiro?

He knew that name too.

He tried to say it, but he couldn't quite remember how to move his mouth. He remembered only pain when he tried. There was pain now too, but it didn't hurt too much. His tongue shifted inside, not hitting anything.

That was important for some reason.

"Sh—" he tried, mimicking the warmth, but it got stuck. "Shi—"

The warmth moved from his cheek to higher up. His forehead, he realized, and brushed there. Another piece of warmth trickled into feeling further down and he mind dully supplied 'hand.' The warmth was holding his hand.

"Yeah, that's me buddy," the voice was thick. "Shiro. You're going to be okay." The hold tightened and Lance could make out fingers. He couldn't grip them back but they threaded into his own and he let them. "We're going to take care of you. Just rest."

"Some more fluids," he heard the original warmth murmur. "I'll start decreasing the sedative too. Should help with the confusion."

Lance didn't really understand the words, not yet, but he felt comforted still. The hand smoothed again across his forehead, shifting his bangs and he leaned further into it, prompting a quiet chuckle. "I've got you,  _hermano,"_ it murmured and at the term a new word came to Lance's mind.

"Hunk," he managed over stumbling lips. "H-Hunk."

Peace then and he let himself drift away as Hunk let out a soft, happy sob above him.

xxx

This time there were even more voices, still hushed but louder.

There was also pain. He whimpered as he felt it stretching up and down him. His legs. Arms. Feet. Wrists.

Everything  _hurt_ and pulsed and he shook at it. But he was grateful. Pain. He could feel it.

He could remember it.

He remembered the pain. He remembered bits and pieces of  _why_ there was pain. Purple. Yellow.

Black. So much black.

Galra. Mission. Names were filtering back in and he clung to each one. Hunk. Shiro. Pidge. Allura. Keith. Coran. He let out a shuddering breath. Yes. He knew their names. He knew his name.

"Lance?"

Yes. That was his name.

Something large and warm – hand, Hunk's hand – descended on his forehead and Lance turned ever so slightly into it with a pleased hum. The warmth made the pain go away for a little bit and he liked this even better.

"Lance, you waking up?"

Oh.

Hunk was talking to him.

He should probably respond.

His tongue did not seem to want to cooperate though and he let out a small moan instead.

"Easy, easy," Hunk soothed, and his thumb brushed a comforting line. "Take your time."

Lance didn't want to though. More and more awareness was returning now except – he felt his heart begin to race and heard someone curse – he couldn't seem to remember what was real and what wasn't and that scared him.

He could fix it though. He just had to open his eyes and look.

So he did.

Or.

He thought he did.

But only darkness greeted him.

Oh no.

No. No no no no no.

He whimpered, straining what he thought were open eyes forward, looking for even a pinprick of light.

Just darkness.

Suddenly the hand resting on him was no longer comforting and he tried to pull away. It was going to move to suffocate him, just like the darkness.

Get away get away get away get—

"Lance,  _hermano,_ it's okay, it's okay.  _Estás bien."_

Hunk's words were a smooth cadence, a light against the dark. He wanted to listen to them, but… but…

Someone squeezed one of his hands then and another voice sounded, as comforting as a blanket on a chilly evening. "Lance, my boy, it is all right."

Coran. The hand tightened ever so, an anchor against the darkness. It tethered him from floating away. He tried to grip it back but that just made more pain and he moaned.

"It is dark, isn't it?" Coran asked gently and Lance whimpered in answer. Yes. Yes it was dark.

He didn't want the dark anymore.

"I know it is scary," Coran soothed, thumb brushing now over his knuckles. "I would be scared too. But it's just for a little longer, all right dear boy?"

Why? He tried to ask but his tongue still did not want to cooperate. Why was it still dark?

He was remembering more now, bits and pieces. Galra. Prisoner. Cuffs.  _Stay here. I'll be back soon enough._

Soon.

Had this been soon?

How long had he been there for? Minutes? Hours?

Days?

He didn't know. He didn't know he didn't know he didn't know.

_Soon._

He was shaking now and the vibrations were sending little flares down his arms and legs and a high, soft keen was torn from his throat born of the pain and the fear and confusion.

Something covered him, soft and heavy and he stilled immediately, the weight a comfort. A hand – heavy too, so heavy – smoothed it down and although the pressure hurt a bit he welcomed it. He didn't feel like he was floating now and the physical grounding was helping smother the panic in his mind as well. The hand continued to run along his arm. "That a little better, buddy?" and he managed a tiny noise of confirmation around his heavy breaths. Shiro. Shiro was here.

"There, there," Coran murmured. "You're safe now. Can you take a nice, steady breath for me, Lance?"

Lance tried. Coran did it with him, making exaggerated noises as he sucked in air and then let it out in a whoosh. Slowly, slowly he felt the rapid thumping in his chest return to a more comfortable murmur.

"Good job,  _hermano,"_ Hunk's hand brushed against his forehead again. "There you go. Nice and steady."

He tried to speak again, this time getting out a "Hu–" before it trailed off.

"Right here," Hunk said. "Me and Coran and Shiro. You're in the castle now."

Castle? Yes. Yes, that made sense. If they were here then he was castle and he was safe. He wasn't… wasn't there, chained to the wall.

Had he ever been?

"Wh–" he tried to speak again, each word grating on his ears. "What…?"

"What happened?" Shiro filled in for him. Lance made a little sound of confirmation. Shiro made a sound then, a bit like a sob. Lance found his lips turning down. Shiro was upset. Why? Why was Shiro upset?

"You were on a mission," Hunk said quietly, his thumb resuming its stroking now from his forehead and through his bangs. Lance pressed into it as much as he dared, not wanting to set the fire off again. "With Shiro. You were captured by the Galra when you were leaving. Do… do you remember that?"

Lance's brow furrowed. Yes. He did. They'd… been escaping? And Shiro had left him behind?

No. No that couldn't be right. Shiro wouldn't do that. He'd  _never_ leave someone behind.

At least… Lance didn't think he would.

No. Lance  _knew_ Shiro wouldn't do that. So why…?

"The Black Lion," Shiro said, voice heavy and thick and his arm was squeezed. "She…"

"The Black Lion acted without Number One's orders and retrieved him and left the scene," Coran said evenly although there was an underlayer of something Lance couldn't quite place.

"She was scared," Shiro said quietly. "But… but she was  _wrong,_ Lance. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I couldn't… she wouldn't…"

Ah. Lance understood now. He understood. Or he thought he did. Black had every right to fear for her Paladin. She had just gotten him back. She couldn't lose him again.

He understood. He didn't want to lose Shiro ever again either.

"'s 'kay," he mumbled.

"It is  _not,"_ Shiro retorted hotly. "It's  _not,_  Lance. I left you. And… and by the time we came back…" His voice dropped, barely audible and Lance had to strain to hear it. "You were gone."

Gone?

What did that mean?

"That's enough," Coran cut in. "We can discuss all of this when Lance is feeling be–"

"No."

Lance surprised himself by the force he put behind the word. Surprised himself more by how much he meant it.

But he had to know. He had to. What was real? What was fake? What had  _happened?_

Why was it still  _dark?_

"Briefly then," came a deep sigh from Coran. "You need to rest, my boy."

Lance tilted his head ever so more into Hunk's caress and waited. He reminded himself to breathe as a burning filled his chest. Answers. He was going to get real answers.

"You were gone," Shiro repeated after a few minutes. "All of Trugg's ships were."

Trugg. Yes. Lance remembered that name now. He didn't like that name. He didn't like her.

"We figured they wormholed out of the area," Hunk picked it up now. "Possibly to escape Ladnok's forces. We… we tried to track your armor, but we couldn't get a signal."

"So we searched. The Blades. Lotor. Everyone," Shiro said. "We… we couldn't find you until... "

"Until one of Prince Lotor's units discovered a debris field," Coran said quietly. "A graveyard of Galrans and ships. They bore Trugg's symbol."

Lance felt his heart rate picking up again despite his best efforts to calm it. He… he didn't like this.

"All of the ships had been abandoned," Shiro said. "All except one that had a faint heat signal. So we…" Lance heard him swallow. "We went on and we… we found you. Ch-chained to the w-wall and…"

"Shiro, stop," Hunk pleaded. "D-don't."

Lance felt himself shake even under the blanket at the image Shiro had confirmed. So there had been a wall. And cuffs. His arms and legs spasmed just thinking about them and he hated the whimper that passed his lips.

"Shh, shhh," Hunk soothed. "It's okay. You're not there now."

"How… l-long?" he managed, waiting for the final blow. A couple hours, they'd tell him. A couple hours had reduced to this pathetic, whimpering mess from being chained to a wall in the dark. He was pretty sure now that all of the other things – the fire, the suffocating, the blood – had been in his head. Nightmares conjured from the never rending blackness and quiet.

Scared of the dark. Pathetic. And he called himself a Paladin of Voltron.

"Three days," came Coran's quiet reply.

Lance blinked (maybe).

Three… days?

Days?

"Wh-what?" he croaked.

Coran's hand tightened around his own. "Three days, my boy. For three days you," and he felt Coran shake through their limbs to a tremble that matched his growing own, "you… No. That is enough."

"Pl-please," Lance whispered, shaking now. "What… what  _h-happened?"_

Why was it still dark?

Why did he still feel so scared?

"You are suffering the effects of extreme sensory deprivation," Coran said after a few moments, voice heavy.

Lance frowned. Sensory deprivation?

"A complete lack of light," Coran continued quietly. "Almost complete absence of sound minus what little you might have been able to make yourself around the…" He didn't say it but Lance could almost taste the oily cable again and winced. "The loss of such senses can have terrible effects on the mind. You… you may have been confused and had trouble with thinking. You may also have seen or heard things that were not actually there ."

Lance stiffened and immediately all of the hands on various parts of him responded with gentle pats and rubs and he heard Hunk sniffle loudly.

So all those things  _had_ been in his head. He'd made them all up. He didn't know whether to cry or laugh.

"The loss of those senses can be traumatizing on their own," Coran continued, "but you were also suffering from the stress placed upon your body from the position you were chained in."

Lance very carefully turned his head. "Jus'… jus' st-standing."

Or, sort of leaning, after a point when he stopped feeling his legs.

"Lance", Shiro squeezed his arm. "You... You were tortured."

Lance shook his head again in denial. Torture was what Shiro had gone through. Beaten, forced to fight, having his arm cut off. Torture was being kicked and hit and stabbed and punched, all of which Shiro had endured.

He… he had just  _stood_ there.

There was no comparison.

"No," and Coran's voice was firm, more so than Lance had heard it before. "Do not trivialize what you have gone through. Even a varga in such a hold would be torturous… you endured it for three days" A soft sob. "My boy. My poor boy."

Lance didn't know how to respond to that. It didn't… didn't feel right.

Torture?

No. That… that couldn't be right. He'd just  _hung_ there. No one had laid even a hand on him other than in the process of restraining him.

"Your muscles were strained beyond measure," Coran said, "causing immeasurable pain to you. Your body was sleep-deprived given the position and physically suffered as well from dehydration. That is to say nothing of the mental and physical effects from the sensory deprivation, of which you are still under now. Which is why we are ending this conversation now." His voice softened. "You need rest, my boy. You will feel better after some more sleep."

But…

Lance trembled.

Coran hadn't answered why he still couldn't see. Why there was still only blackness.

His eyes stung with tears, properly now as apparently he was no longer as dehydrated, and he blinked them back. He couldn't cry here. Not now.

"What is it?" Hunk asked gently.

"C-can't…" he swallowed. "Dark… wh-why?"

He didn't like it. He wanted it  _gone._

"Oh, lad," Coran's hand tightened. "You will be able to see again soon."

But not now. Why not now?

"Your eyes are over-sensitive to light right now," Hunk explained quietly. "Coran said we have to take things slow in re-introducing you to light and sound, but especially light. You have a blindfold on right now," and he felt Hunk's hand trace down his cheekbone and then press just above it and now that it was pointed out he could feel a line of cloth, "and we have the lights practically off in here."

Oh.

He supposed that made sense. It was like when he'd tagged along to his sister's eye appointment and she'd had to get her eyes dilated and hadn't been able to look at lights for a few hours. It was like that.

Just…

Just not really at all.

"Hey, hey," Hunk murmured, hand brushing his bangs back again. "We'll be right here. You aren't going to be alone again.  _Ever_ again," and there was a steely promise there.

It comforted Lance more than anything else.

"Try and sleep, lad," Coran advised, removing his hand and giving Lance's one last little pat and tucked it under the blanket with the rest of him. Lance missed it immediately but didn't try and reach back for it. Something must have shown on his face though as a moment later he felt Coran's hand settle atop the blanket and remain there.

There was quiet then.

He hated it.

He could feel it pressing in and combined with the darkness it was too much. He felt another tear burn its way into the blindfold and then another.

"Too quiet, huh?" Hunk's voice broke through it and Lance nearly cried more with relief even at the heavy guilt he heard in Hunk's and his relief turned to the same for making Hunk feel that way. "Sorry,  _hermano._ How… how about a song to help you sleep?"

A song?

He very carefully inclined his head and he liked to think he could envision Hunk's smile. "All right then. Shiro, why don't you start us off?"

Lance blinked in surprise. He didn't know Shiro could sing. He felt a very tentative smile pull on his lips at the thought.

"Me?"

Shiro sounded reluctant and Lance felt his smile fall.

"Hunk, I don't–"

There was the sound of a dull thud then and Shiro cut off with an audible snap. "I don't know what to sing," Shiro corrected.

"How about that delightful song Number Five taught me?" Coran said. "The one with your human beverage of beer and a wall?"

"Nope, not doing that," Shiro voted it down immediately and Lance felt his lips twitch up again. If he focused hard enough on that he could almost forget the steady ache with every breath that seemed to flow through his arms and legs and the pressure that seemed to be pushing in from the never-ending darkness that only gentle hands were helping to keep at bay.

"Okay," Shiro said after a moment. "Got one." His hand patted against Lance's under the blanket. "I learned it from Keith, actually. Moon River. I think you'll like it."

After another breath Shiro began, voice a rich and soothing timbre. Lance let it wash over him and as surely as the mentioned river drifted off to sleep.

xxx

Lance came to with the awful, horrible sensation of his leg being crushed while subsequently lit on fire. He tried to draw it back to him but something was holding it tight.

Manacles, his mind flew to. The cuffs. He was back there, on the wall. He was–

The pressure disappeared immediately and was replaced with something cool, quenching the fire. His gasp turned into a choked breath and he shuddered in relief and confusion at the new sensation, although it was somewhat muffled as he realized he was lying on his stomach now and air harder to come by.

That made the panic start up again and his hands twitched feebly at his sides, any attempt to move them sending shooting fire along his shoulders. Over the sound of his heavy breathing he could make out sounds – words – and he forced himself to listen.

Shiro.

Shiro was talking.

If Shiro was here then he was in the castle. He was safe.

Lance let out a shaky breath and tried better to listen to the words.

"–it's okay, I'm so sorry, you're all right–"

Shiro was rambling, Lance realized. He didn't think he'd ever heard Shiro do that before.

"–didn't mean to, that was stupid, I'm sorry–"

"Sh-Shiro," he rasped, cutting into the litany that stopped as suddenly as the sharp pain had.

"Lance!" the volume was bit too loud and Lance winced, prompting another round of apologies even as a warm hand descended to rest against his cheek and Lance turned immediately into it, soaking up the good warmth.

"Hey, buddy," Shiro's voice dropped further. "I'm so sorry."

"'s 'kay," Lance managed, tongue figuring out how to work again and feeling the reverberations of his words through his chest, pressed into the soft mattress. "What w-were you doing?"

"Massage," Shiro murmured, thumb rubbing small circles now on his face. "Coran said they'll help with the calf strain, but they can hurt." A pause. "Obviously they do. I'm so sorry, Lance. I've got ice on it now and there's a heat pack on your right one and I'll switch it to ice too in a bit, okay? No more massages."

"No pod?" Lance asked, unable to stop from wincing as he shifted slightly and more pain rippled down his shoulders and arms. Because as much as he hated going in them he couldn't argue against the results.

"Not yet," Shiro said, voice heavy with regret. "Coran said not until your eyes are better. Something about the recalibration and going blind." Lance stiffened and Shiro cursed under his breath. "Sorry, sorry. Don't even think about that. You aren't going to go blind, promise."

But the concept was out there now and surrounded as he was by blackness Lance found it much too easy to believe. What if he really was like this forever? A sob worked its way free and his shoulders shook.

"Oh, Lance," and Shiro's tone just made him cry harder, hot tears being soaked up by the blindfold.

Pathetic. This was pathetic. Shiro had just said he  _wouldn't_ go blind. That everything would be all right, eventually. Shiro had been through  _so_ much worse and here he was, crying over nothing.

And he still couldn't stop.

He felt the bed sink then as Shiro likely joined him on it before strong arms were wrapping about his shoulders, sliding under his front and Lance found himself being lifted up, turned so he was on his side and then on his back and then finally pulled against a warm, solid chest and cradled close.

"It's all right, it's all right," Shiro soothed, rocking them both gently as Lance's arms hung limp at his sides and he turned and buried his face against Shiro's shirt. "You're going to be okay."

"I'm p-pathetic," Lance whimpered and Shiro's arms tightened.

"No," he said, almost harshly. "No, Lance. Don't you even dare think that."

"But I…"

"You're brave," Shiro said softly but no less firmly. "And strong. And you went through something  _horrible_."

"But you…"

"Lance, stop," and Shiro sounded pained then. "Please." He felt Shiro take a deep breath and it made him feel even smaller. "Please," he repeated. "Don't. Don't make out what you went through any less than what it was. You were  _tortured,_ Lance. You're still hurt." Another breath and his voice went even quieter. If Lance hadn't been tucked up against Shiro he probably wouldn't have been able to hear it at all.

" _I'm_ still hurt, Lance. I know I am. I don't like to think about it because it scares me to try and remember and sometimes I don't know what's real or what it is my mind made up… I think you know what that's like."

Lance shuddered in answer. Yes. Yes he knew all too well.

"I know what I went through was bad," Shiro continued. "Really bad. But what you went through was really bad too. Don't compare them, okay? Can you do that for me?"

Lance managed a tiny nod and Shiro let out another breath, but this one more of relief.

"Good." Shiro hugged him a little closer. "Let's concentrate now on helping you get better.  _That_ will make me feel better too, all right?" Lance nodded again. He could try and do that.

Quiet reigned for a few moments then before Shiro let out another sigh. "Lance?" He made a mumbling noise against Shiro's chest. "I… I am sorry. For all of this. It's my fault this happened to you."

"'s not your fault," Lance said quietly. "I got caught."

"Because you were protecting  _me,"_ Shiro said, and there was grief there, and anger. "And then Black…" he let out a soft sort of sob. "She's sorry too."

"She was protecting you," Lance murmured. "Couldn't lose you again."

"And  _I_ can't lose you. Any of you," Shiro said vehemently. "And I nearly did." He hugged Lance tight again. "I promise it won't ever happen again. I  _will_ protect you. Just as you protected me."

Lance felt a small smile turn his lips at Shiro's words and he was cuddled closer and felt Shiro bend down and place a kiss atop his head. His smile grew and he heard Shiro give a soft, fond laugh.

"There's your smile," he murmured. "We've missed seeing it around here."

At the reminder of seeing Lance could feel it slipping away and he couldn't help the shiver that overtook him. He knew the darkness was only temporary. His sight would come back.

But…

But right now it was still  _dark._ And too quiet, even with the sounds of Shiro's heart thumping below his head.

If he could just see. Just something other than the blackness. Just for a moment.

"Shiro?" he whispered. "Can…?"

He could feel Shiro hum in consideration, already knowing the question. "Coran did say when you woke up we could try taking the blindfold off if all the room lights were off. Do… do you want to try that?"

"Please," he said, voice small.

"Okay. Give me a few ticks. I've got to lie you back down though."

Shiro's warm, gentle hold unwrapped from about him then and Lance found himself lowered onto his back. Shiro's footsteps hurried away before they came back a few moments later and there was the distinct sound of someone crashing into the bed and Lance couldn't hold back the moan as everything  _shook_ , audible even above Shiro's curse.

"Sorry, sorry," and Lance could almost picture Shiro's cheeks darkening. "Didn't see that."

The bed dipped again and Lance felt himself being lifted up once more although Shiro made sure to elevate his legs at the knee – and that hurt but felt better all at the same time – with some pillows, and then stacked Lance's hands across his stomach so the strain on his shoulders wasn't as bad. It still hurt but Lance could ignore it, instead soaking up the comfort Shiro was providing. And now that he knew how comfortable a pillow Shiro made he was going to be requiring more cuddles in the future. And given his current nearly state he had a feeling such a thing was highly attainable, bringing another small smile to his face and he focused on that instead of the glaring fact he was going to be completely immobile for a while as his body healed.

"I messaged Coran," Shiro said as he finished settling Lance. "He and the others will be down in a little bit. They've all been rather impatient to see you," he let out a chuckle, obviously understating it. "Hunk made some soup too if you're up for eating." Lance's stomach growled in answer and Shiro let out another light laugh.

Shiro's flesh hand slid from his shoulders and came up to cup the side of his face where he was resting it comfortably against Shiro's chest. "All right, ready?"

"Y-yes."

His stomach churned as he felt Shiro slide a finger under the blindfold and gently pull it up, cloth sliding against his forehead. He kept his eyes squinted closed.

What if when he opened them it was still pitch black? What if Coran was wrong and he was blind? He couldn't… he couldn't… He was afraid to look.

"Lance, breathe, you're okay," Shiro murmured and the hand came back now and cupped the side of his face. "It's all right. Go ahead. I'm right here. I've got you."

And with that kind of encouragement Lance carefully lifted his lashes. There was no searing light this time like he must have seen during his rescue.

There was no light at all.

He choked on his next breath as panic swept through him.

"Easy, easy, it's going to take a few minutes," Shiro comforted. " _I_ can still barely see anything. Only light in here is the emergency strip by the door."

Lance strained his eyes forward, blinking rapidly as his eyes dried out at the action. Shiro's hand was carding through his hair now and he grounded himself in the gesture as he tried to see  _anything._

He tilted his head back and nearly choked again as there was the barest glimmer of  _something_ in his vision.

He realized a tick later it was Shiro's white forelock. From there he could piece together the faintest outline of Shiro's face.

"Sh-Shiro," he stuttered. "I see you."

And with that simple observation he felt the last of the cold fear that had twisted inside him dissipate like a shadow encountering light. He could  _see._ The darkness wasn't so absolute, so oppressive now.

There was light now. Sound, as Shiro let out a happy laugh and he felt another kiss pressed to the top of his head and Lance felt one of his own bubble out, relief overflowing.

The sound of the darkness had turned now into one of light.

There was nothing to be afraid of any more.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Another commission fic as part of my fundraiser to help out a friend in some financial duress. The lovely CrownsOfLaurelsrequested a fic featuring Lance and extreme sensory deprivation with some recovery possibly featuring either Shiro or Keith (although it's me, Hunk and Coran wrote themselves in xD) with Lance comparing his experience to that of Shiro's. Researching sensory deprivation as well as sleep deprivation techniques was a dark, fun thing and poor Lance was my guinea pig once more. I really enjoyed this one and hope you do too, CrownsOfLaurels. Thank you again so much for the commission!
> 
> If you read this and enjoyed it, please do leave a comment below. Authors really appreciate them and it's the best way to say thank you for the fic. Favorite moment, line, scene, overall impression… please take a moment to say what you liked and make an author's day!
> 
> (Want to keep up with my work? Follow me on [Tumblr, icypantherwrites!](http://icypantherwrites.tumblr.com/))


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